


Patronus ex Machina

by amelianonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: An assortment of others - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-05 02:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17910347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amelianonymous/pseuds/amelianonymous
Summary: Draco has always loved romance novels. His favorite trope is when the Patronus acts as a deus ex machina and gets the couple together. A Patronus changing its form because its caster has fallen in love is the most romantic thing in the world in his mind.Then it happens to him.Now the most important thing is for him to hide it. Too bad that in order for him to become an auror he has to prove he can cast a Patronus.





	Patronus ex Machina

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: Added 2800 words to the end.

_Patronus Ex Machina: a specific trope within the Patronus-centered sub genre of romance where the Patronus charm resolves the conflict at the end, usually by way of having transformed into a shape representing the love interest, thereby proving their love for their partner_

 

Draco had loved romance novels for as long as he could remember. He wasn’t sure how he got into them, it could have been by stealing his mother’s books or at a young Pansy’s insistence, but now he couldn’t imagine his life without them. They were his lifeblood, the wine to his sommelier. And after a lifetime of consumption, he was a bit of a wine snob. He called it “knowing what he liked.”  He could read about Pureblood girls running away from their over-controlling fathers all day, however, his absolute favorite trope was Patronus Ex Machina. He loved the whole Patronus sub-genre, but Patronus Ex Machina was the cream of an already creamy crop. At sixteen, it was the grand romantic gesture he had found the most swoon-worthy. He dreamt about having matching Patronuses with a partner.

Then it all became too real.

 

Casting a Patronus was known to be difficult. Draco tried for the first time at fourteen but didn’t manage anything more than a couple of wisps until after spring holidays seventh year. He was in his bed—the way he spent most of seventh year—and practicing spells as an excuse to give Blaise in case he asked what he was doing. He had been sending Draco increasingly worried looks lately, but he brushed him off. Unthinkingly, he cast the Patronus charm over and over, white mist appearing and disappearing. The image of Potter, face swollen and hands tied, in Malfoy Manor came to him unbidden and the charm stopped working. He took in a harsh breath. He still wasn’t sure why he’d done it, lied to protect Harry Potter of all people, but he had some idea. A future with Voldemort felt like no future at all. A future with Potter, though…

From his wand came a galloping stag, magnificent and noble. He stared at it gobsmacked. It was a hulking beast, larger than he had thought deer got, not that he had much experience with deer. After settling down, it returned to his bedside and met his gaze. With a phantom nip to his sheets, the creature dissolved. Though the deer’s eyes had been unearthly, what Draco found most disconcerting was its familiarity. He recognized it. Years may have passed, but he would never forget the look of Potter’s Patronus.

All of this could mean only one thing.

 

If Draco had played his cards right, no one ever would have seen his Patronus. But, naturally, Draco did not play his cards right. In fact, he might as well have just thrown them face up on the floor.

Merlin knows why he signed up to be an auror. All his friends were shocked when he told them. Blaise had nearly fallen out of his chair. If he was being honest, he had been surprised by his choice, too. The only thing more baffling was that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had accepted him.

He had been going through training for a couple of months and everything was going better than he expected, although admittedly he had been expecting a garbage fire. Then they announced the next test. An auror needs to be able to summon a fully corporeal Patronus, they said. A premise which Draco accepted. It made sense. Wouldn’t want an auror who couldn’t fight off a Dementor. What he didn’t understand was why they had to cast it in front of all their fellow aurors-in-training. A group which happened to include Harry Potter, the last person on Earth he wanted to see his Patronus.

They gathered in one of the old courtrooms on the lower levels. Dark wood paneling gave the room a weight that bore down on him, filling him with deep foreboding. A part of the floor was sunken in where the defendants and the prosecutors would have sat during trials. There the trainees formed a circle around the desks and began casting the charm one-by-one. Draco would be one of the last to go, which gave him time to think over his options. When it came down to it, though, he didn't really have any. As difficult as it would be for his pride, he would have to bomb this test.

Next to him, Parvati wilted as the mist she summoned up failed to coalesce into anything resembling a creature. Their instructor tutted and wrote in his notepad, making his ridiculous old hat jiggle. He gestured for Draco to get on with it.

With great disdain, Draco waved his wand. It took effort, but he managed to allow only a few wisps to come out. “Sorry, Pembroke.”

The instructor shook his head. “It’s alright, my boy, we all have some things we aren’t the strongest in.”

Draco wanted to grab Pembroke and shake him. He wanted to blow everything and show him his Patronus.The words repeated a thousand times in his head within a millisecond, taunting. _We all have some things we aren’t the strongest in._ He wanted to prove he could cast this spell better than everyone in this class. Who cared if it would reveal his crush on Potter?

He clenched his wand tight enough to break.    

After Finnigan’s fox danced around the room, the only person left was Potter. He was the last person to go, because of course he was, and his Patronus was perfect, because of course it was, and if Draco had any lingering doubts about what his Patronus meant they were squashed now because the white stag cavorting around the room looked just like his. There was no way people wouldn’t have been able to connect the dots. Pembroke clapped, making his hat flop every which way. Draco was tempted to clap as well. Not for Potter, but for himself and the ridiculous decisions he had made to get himself here. He had walked right into a scenario straight out of one of his favorite romance novels and instead of doing some grand romantic gesture that would have gotten him humiliatingly rejected, he had successfully avoided making a fool of himself. It was a good day. Or, well, not a good day, but definitely a better one than it could have been.

At least that was what he thought until Pembroke apparently recovered from the _splendor_ of Potter’s performance and cleared his throat. “For all those who have not passed, we will be pairing you up with one of your peers who did exceptionally well. You will work with them and, in a week’s time, we will test you again. The pairs are as follows: Draco Malfoy, you will be with Harry Potter…”

Draco’s brain froze. He had not accounted for this. Arrogantly, perhaps, he had assumed they would tell them to practice on their own. After all, they were adults. Surely this couldn’t be happening. And to have the bad luck to be paired with Potter on top of it—

It seemed he hadn’t escaped his romance novel situation, it was only beginning.

 

They were dismissed and Draco’s head was still spinning. He pulled on his jacket and made his way for the door. He would go to La Piccola Casa, he needed the comforting familiarity of the quaint Italian restaurant right about now.

How could this have happened? Throughout the rest of training, Draco had made sure to steer clear of Potter. He had a whole system, a veritable compendium of evasion techniques, but now all his precious effort was laid to waste. He had never been good at talking to Potter, something which he doubted would be improved by his little crush, but not only would they have to talk, Draco would have to pretend he couldn’t cast a Patronus. He groaned.

“Malfoy.”

Draco flinched. He hadn’t noticed Potter’s approach.

“We need to talk.”

A few of their colleagues lingered behind, taking extra care to tidy up their things in hopes of witnessing another Malfoy and Potter fight for the ages. Draco didn’t want to give them the pleasure. “Over a meal, perhaps? Somewhere away from prying eyes…”

Potter’s eyes slid over the gathering crowd. “I’ll walk with you.”

 

The walk to La Piccola Casa was less pleasant than usual, although Draco wasn’t sure whether to attribute that to the uninviting weather or his current companion.

“We’ll have to meet fairly often if you’re going to learn how to cast a Patronus in a week.” Potter ran a hand through his hair, rucking it up into even more of a mess than it already was. _His hand must be cold_ , Draco thought nonsensically, _he isn’t wearing gloves_. As if that were the most important thing about this ridiculous situation he had gotten himself into. “A week, Merlin. No one can learn how to cast a fully corporeal Patronus in week. What are they hoping to get out of this?”

“The pleasure of seeing us all fail? Pembroke seems like he’d be into that.” Draco’s words were muffled by his scarf.

Potter grimaced. “Don’t say stuff like that.”

Draco hunched down farther into his scarf. Five seconds in and he was already making a mess of things. This was why he had been avoiding Potter.

“Anyways, when are you free to meet? I can’t do Thursday, but I’m good for pretty much every other day.”

Merlin’s beard, didn’t Potter have something better to do than tutor an old school rival? Surely there were some kittens in trees that needed saving. Leaving out Thursday, they would be meeting five times. That was a lot. Too much, really. “Friday and Sunday are no good for me.”

Under other circumstances, he would have moved his book club, but staring down the prospect of all these opportunities he would have to worsen Potter’s opinion of him, he found himself grateful for the excuse. Three nights would be far more manageable than five.

Potter’s face scrunched up and it was… cute. The part of Draco’s mind that would normally have made a comment about wrinkles was suspiciously silent. “That’s not a lot of times to meet. How can you—”

Potter must have felt like he was shirking his duty, but Draco would spare the both of them. “I’ll just have to study extra hard on my own time. It’s unfortunate, but that’s all we can do.”

Still unsatisfied, Potter huffed. “We’ll make the study sessions long to compensate for how few of them there are.”

No, no, no. “That’s unnecessary. Don’t feel like you have to do all this for my sake.”

“It’s no problem. I have some experience teaching the Patronus charm. If you show enough progress, we can cut down on the time.”

Draco’s face must have been doing something absolutely bizarre. He couldn’t let Potter see his Patronus, but in order to make what were certain to be torturous hours shorter, he had to “make progress.” It would be an impossible tightrope to walk, but by Salazar he was going to do it. He pulled himself together too late for it to seem natural. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“We’re starting tonight. Meet me at Highgate Cemetery at 7.”  

“A cemetery? Why are we meeting—” But there was the popping sound of apparition and Potter was gone.

Four sessions. Extra long. Draco was screwed.

 

It was too early for dinner but too late for lunch. The restaurant was full of empty chairs. Hannah Abbott stood at the hostess stand with a herbology textbook out, one of many she was meant to absorb this semester. When the bell above the door jingled, she looked up to see Draco enter.

“Rough day at work?” she asked, grateful for the respite from studying.

He tried to communicate his situation with a look.

“Sorry for asking.” She shut her textbook. “Where’s Parvati?”

“I do some things without her, you know.”

“Testy.” Hannah glanced around the restaurant and, seeing it devoid of any other customers, plopped down into the seat across from Draco. “Mediwitch school isn’t going great either. If you want we can turn this into a venting party.”

He gave in. “As you already know, I have a crush on Potter.”

“I thought we were pretending you didn’t.”

He waved off her concern. “Everyone’s going to know soon enough. For now, though, Potter’s in the dark and I’ve been sentenced to Patronus lessons with him. It’s just—” He cut himself off with a huff.

“That’s tough,” she commiserated. “Why don’t you tell him?”

“What?”

“If he’s going to find out anyways, it’d be best for both of you if you let him in on this privately. It’s much more likely to go well that way, and if he’s not into it, the rejection will be softer and he won’t be blindsided when it comes out publicly.”

She may have been right, but confessing was unfathomable. “Tell me about med school.”

She groaned. “Exams are in a month, but Hardy thinks that now is the perfect time to assign six feet of parchment and a practicum. I don’t have time to raise a Mimbulus Mimbletonia!”

“Fuck him.”

She pursed her lips.

A grin played at the corners of his mouth. “Sorry, screw him.”

 

Hanging around an empty cemetery after dark was not Draco’s idea of fun, although it felt symbolically appropriate as there was a high likelihood that he was going to die tonight of sheer embarrassment. If not tonight, maybe on Friday when Pansy found out about his predicament. He almost regretted telling Potter he wouldn’t be able to make it. Almost.

There were a couple of ghosts floating around, but he ignored them and they paid him back in kind. He had arrived fifteen minutes early, his nerves having driven him to be ready an absurd amount of time in advance. He started to get antsy. What if Potter had forgotten about their plans in the scant hours since they had talked? What if he had never intended to come at all and this was some kind of prank to make Draco stand out in the cold just to see how long he would wait so Potter could call him desperate?

Draco checked his watch to distract from his thoughts. Ten minutes until seven. There was no reason to believe that Potter wasn’t going to show up. He released a breath he had been holding and it turned into a cloud in front of him. Everything would be alright. This was purely professional, Potter was literally doing this for his job. They both were. There was no reason to think that this was going to end in some catastrophic confession. Potter was just helping him with a spell. One he already knew, sure, but that would make this all the easier. He didn’t even have to learn anything! He only had to spend a few hours in Potter’s presence without making the other man hate him. Well, hate him more than he already did.

This was not going to go well.

Draco tried to muster up some confidence. There was no way this could be any worse than when the Dark Lord made the Manor his headquarters. In fact, it wouldn’t be anywhere near as bad. There was little comfort in the thought as things could get very bad indeed and still not be close to as bad as that year had been.

“Malfoy!” The voice startled Draco out of his thoughts. Potter was standing a few meters away, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. “Ready to go?”

“So we’re not practicing charms in the middle of a graveyard?” Draco sauntered over to him, hiding how thrown off he was.

Potter barked a laugh. “No, although this is going to be a little uncomfortable because my house is under Fidelius. Do you mind if I…?”

Potter waved his wand a little and Draco sighed, motioning to go ahead. He knew the standard procedure for a guest entering a house under Fidelius they were not privy to the location of, but he still felt a shiver go down his spine when the magical cloth shroud his vision in darkness.

A hand grasped his arm. “Sorry about this,” Potter whispered before there was a sharp tug at his navel. He hit the ground hard, Potter’s hold the only thing that kept him upright. There was the sound of a door opening and then Potter was nudging him gently over the threshold. The blindfold lifted and Draco found himself in a house not dissimilar to some of the more humble Malfoy residences.

“Sorry for the mess.” Potter scratched the back of his neck. “We’re renovating the place.”

Draco hummed, taking in the partially torn off wallpaper and paint cans on the floor. “It definitely doesn’t seem your style. Too much green.”

There was a question in his tone, but Potter just laughed. “I actually like green, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know.” Draco’s gaze was caught on Potter’s face still smiling. It was not an expression he was familiar with. This was not the boy he had gone to school with, who had resented him with a fervor. “Not to be weird, but why are you being so nice to me? I thought you hated me.”

Potter’s jaw clenched. “The world could use a lot less hatred is all.”

That didn’t make sense. No one could just decide to stop feeling some way about a person. Merlin knows if he could, Draco would have. “You’re allowed to be angry with me. I’ve done bad things. I know you try to be a model of forgiveness, but it’s fine if you’re not.” And all sense of professionalism was thrown out the window. It never had a chance with the two of them at the helm. Though, admittedly, this was not the way he had thought it would go.

“It’s not that. Not entirely.” Potter had clearly not been prepared for an honest conversation like this. He wouldn’t meet Draco’s eyes. “We aren’t the people we were. You’re braver than I ever gave you credit for.”

Draco snorted. “That’s being generous.”

“You don’t know how little I thought of you.” Potter’s eyes glimmered like he might start laughing again. Draco tried to not be charmed but it was a lost cause. “But seriously, we aren’t. You’re training to be an auror, a job which I’m sure was never on your radar when we were in school.”

Draco shrugged, conceding the point. “I owe a lot to so many people. I have to make it up somehow.”

“You don’t, not really. The fact that you think you do—That’s a sign you’ve changed. No one would have been shocked if you had gone off to live the rest of your days in the French countryside, but here you are, trying to make up for past mistakes.”

“Calling them mistakes is too kind, I assure you they were done with the utmost intentionality. That is why I have to do this.”

Potter gestured to him as if to say _See my point?_ “And I’m… older, I guess. If I don’t want to put up with you, I don’t have to. There’s less hanging over my head, so I’m more patient, I think. Everything’s different.”

“The world has changed.” Draco understood where Potter was coming from, even if it felt too good to be true.

They were quiet, having found a mutual understanding, if only for a moment.

Potter clapped a hand down on Draco’s shoulder. “No time to waste. Let’s get working on that Patronus.”

Draco’s smile back at him was forced.

 

The night wasn’t nearly as bad as Draco had feared. It turned out that lying to Potter came incredibly easy. It was concerning, although he supposed he did have a lot of practice. It didn’t hurt that Potter responded to his almost comical level of feigned ineptitude with an adorable furrowed brow. Draco wanted to tell him to not take it so seriously, but he doubted that would be appreciated.

And because Draco’s life was a complete cliche, a couple of times Potter had even done that thing where he had come up behind Draco and taken his hand to demonstrate the wand movement for the Patronus. Draco hadn’t thought that sort of thing actually happened. He didn’t exactly swoon—it wasn’t as romantic in real life as it was in his romance novels, instead it was rather fumbling and awkward—but he did find it dangerously endearing, enough so that he didn’t make fun of Potter for doing it. The rest of Potter’s lesson had been useful, or would have been if Draco couldn’t have done the Patronus perfectly fine on his own, but the wand movement demonstration he couldn’t picture being particularly helpful even to the least skilled student. Draco wasn’t a good teacher, though, so what did he know? Maybe some people would find it illustrative.

Potter hadn’t let him leave until half past ten, which was simultaneously frustrating and sweet. His determination to help made Draco feel a little bad for his deception, but he resented the coddling. He had always had a need for Potter to recognize him as an equal and this exercise grated against that painfully. They had agreed to meet at the same time and place the next day. Draco was hesitantly optimistic. This night had been almost enjoyable. Maybe the rest of the week wouldn’t be so bad. Merlin, maybe they would even end the week friends. The thought left him buoyant.

He had been returned to the cemetery, though by now it was closed. Potter had lingered after removing his blindfold, looking like he had something to say, before he left with a simple “See you tomorrow.”

 

Insomnia struck again, his merciless mistress, so he scrounged through his romance novel collection for an old favorite. He didn’t want any surprises. He wanted to sink into a love story like sipping hot chocolate when it’s snowing, to feel the familiar warmth flood through him and lull him into something like sleep. His hand strayed to Lisa Grabanski’s _Lion Prince_ without his input. He felt betrayed, but the heart wants what it wants. Pulling the book off the shelf, he grabbed the softest blanket and curled up in the largest armchair in his living room. _Lion Prince_ , like most of Grabanski’s novels, was a Patronus story. It was a part of her _Lost in Time_ series where all the protagonists ended up in some improbable magical accident that sent them back in time where she would try to get back to her right time only to fall in love with a ridiculously perfect guy in the past. The guy was always strangely progressive for his time, as well as cleanly. In _Lion Prince_ , the man was a French noble known far and wide for his bravery and unwillingness to settle down because he felt such a duty to his people that he could not take a wife lest she distract him from his most sacred of tasks. But, of course, the protagonist is unlike any other woman he has ever met. In her time, she had been climbing the Ministry ladder, hoping to one day become Minister for Magic. She was driven and the way she so passionately cared for the people entranced the noble. The fact that she couldn’t speak French was only a small barrier in the way of their love for the ages.

It was the Frenchman who cast the Patronus. Formerly a lion, it was now a dove, and he realized in an instant that it meant he loved the woman who had turned his life upside down by advocating for a peaceful solution with their neighbor. He discovered that she made him a better person and that love didn’t make him any less devoted to his people. The time traveling woman had been watching from behind a statue and they had confessed immediately. It was sugary sweet. She might not have been able to become Minister, but she did become queen and she ruled with wisdom and compassion according to the epilogue.

Usually the ending left Draco feeling warm and fuzzy, but today the only thing he could focus on was how if he revealed his Patronus, it would not go as well as it had for the titular Lion Prince. There would be no confessions of mutual adoration, much less a monologue on all his positive qualities. There would be no rushed-but-beautiful wedding and he wouldn’t become queen, thank Merlin for that. The last thing he wanted was to rule over people. If Potter, or worse, Weasley, saw his Patronus, it would only mean bad things. Potter was one of the few people on his side. Draco doubted that knowing he was in love with him would stop him from sticking up for Draco, but it would make things a lot more awkward. Potter wouldn’t laugh like he had multiple times that night or smile so softly. At best Potter would pity him, the Death Eater that had an impossible crush on the poster child for all things good. No, Draco wouldn’t get the love interest in this story no matter how “true” his love was.

It was a sad thought to fall asleep to.

 

Parvati was waiting for him at his tiny desk, the kind they assigned to all auror trainees. “So? How did your talk with Harry go?”

An unscrupulous gossip, Parvati was. It made Draco smile. “Good, you could say.”

“No fighting?”

“We didn’t yell. Not even once.”

Parvati’s eyebrows were nearly at her hairline. “I can’t believe it. I thought I’d have more time to plan the wedding.”

“Oh, stop it.”

Parvati might not have known how head over heels Draco was, but she had ascertained that he had a crush on Potter. Thank Salazar the rest of their colleagues were as dense as the richest fudge because Draco was appallingly obvious. If there had been a single other Slytherin he would have been in serious trouble, but there wasn’t. Which was part of his problem, really, because Magical Law Enforcement had long been the den of lions and they had no idea how to deal with someone like him. It had been quite the educational experience to be immersed in Gryffindor culture. If someone had asked him before, he would have said that he didn’t think there was that much difference between Hogwarts houses, but he had discovered he was dead wrong. They expressed themselves differently and there was more casual touching. They also were just riskier. In Slytherin, everyone knew their limits and didn’t test them, but here a day without pushing the limit was a day wasted. Draco wasn’t sure he would ever get used to it. Parvati was a welcomed break from her peers. She wasn’t intense like the other Gryffindors were, at least not all the time, and she cared about sensible things like fashion and the latest gossip. With anyone else the only thing Draco could find to talk about was quidditch.

It didn’t hurt that Parvati loved romance novels as much as he did.

“Rhian just dropped the last in the _Knights of the Stone_ series,” she whispered with barely contained excitement.

“I’ve been waiting for that book since forever.” Rhian was one of Draco’s favorite authors and _Knights of the Stone_ was her magnum opus. He had been waiting for the series to be complete since he was sixteen.

“Want to come with me to Flourish and Blotts today?”

Draco winced. “Can’t. I’ve got to study with Potter.”

“How about tomorrow?”

Draco shook his head.

“Harry again?” Parvati asked, stunned. “That’s ridiculous. I’m only meeting with Hermione on Saturday.”

Draco glanced around them, making sure there was no one near before leaning in. Parvati leaned in too, ears having perked up at the scent of something secret. “Don’t tell anyone, but I can cast a fully corporeal Patronus just fine.”

“What?” Parvati whisper-shouted. “Then what are you doing? Is this some elaborate plot to spend time with Harry?”

Draco snorted. “No. It’s just… I’ll show you at lunch, okay?”

Parvati glared at him. “This better be good.”

 

“Merlin’s soggy—”

“Shush!”

Parvati stood wide-eyed next to Draco in the alley as the misty stag danced before them. “This is so romantic. You could literally be the protagonist in one of Grabaski’s books!”

With a wave of his wand, Draco made the stag disappear. “Yeah, if Potter liked blokes and I wasn’t a former lackey of the man who murdered his family.”

But Parvati was still enchanted with the idea, so delighted to have one of the oldest tropes in romance come to life in front of her. “What was your Patronus before? Did it make you realize you were in love? Oh! Are you going to use it to confess? That’d be so cute!”

Draco sighed, but set to answering her questions. “The first time I managed a corporeal Patronus it was already like this, so I don’t know what it would have been otherwise. I kind of knew before but I had been hoping I was wrong. And no, I’m not going to use it to confess because I’m not going to confess.”

“Wait. When was the first time you summoned a Patronus?”

Of course that was what she had grabbed onto. “Spring seventh year, right after break.”

She looked like she wanted to ask more, but unlike some, she actually had tact. “So this was why you didn’t want to cast the Patronus with everyone there.” The reality of the situation had settled in for her. Her eyes grew sad. “That’s tough. You can’t put it off forever though. People are still going to be there for the test on Monday.”

Draco had already accepted that. “Yeah.”

Parvati studied him before changing the subject. “When is Harry letting you take a break? Essentially, when can you go to Flourish and Blotts with me?”

“Thursday.” Draco was relieved that they weren’t talking about his doomed love and professional lives anymore.

“I can wait until then,” she declared regally.

Draco snorted. “How gracious of you.”  

 

How pathetic must Potter think he is to have so much trouble with a single charm? Draco was making no progress and Potter was getting visibly frustrated.

“I’m not sure what to do,” he admitted to Draco and the antique furniture that surrounded them where they were sat on the floor. “Normally I wouldn’t worry about it—sometimes these things take time—but we’ve only got until Monday.”

It was moments like these that made Draco feel guilty. He looked at his feet.

Potter’s hand clasped his shoulder in what was likely meant as a show of support. “Don’t get down on yourself, it’s a tricky spell. Especially for those of us who have had little to be happy about.”

“What do you think will happen if I fail?” Draco whispered. “If I don’t cast a corporeal Patronus?”

Potter’s grasp tightened. “Don’t talk like that. You’ll be fine.”

“But what if I’m not?” Draco pushed. If Monday came around and he was faced with the choice between reveal his feelings or fail the test, he wasn’t sure what he would pick. His shoulder ached under Potter’s hand.

“I don’t know.” Potter bit out the words like they had offended him personally. “The aurors are short staffed so I doubt they’d turn down a candidate, but—” He cut himself off. He removed his hand with a strange amount of force, placing it in his lap clenched. “It doesn’t matter because you’re going to walk into that room and cast the best Patronus they’ve ever seen. Show me what we’re working with again.”

Draco left that night feeling like he had disappointed Potter. It was dumb but it hurt. He had been instructed to think about what he was getting stuck on. His technique was flawless, so there must be something else amiss. It was probably that he was intentionally not putting enough power into the spell, but what did he know. He was going to have to come up with some bullshit reasons for struggling that Potter wouldn’t feel bad for not being able to fix. Draco sighed, tilting his head back to stare at the dark sky above the empty graveyard. The wind picked up and he shivered.

 

A reason for not being able to cast a Patronus… Back in his cushy armchair, Draco mulled over his extensive knowledge of potential causes for struggling to be able to cast the charm according to romance novels. There was a general lack of skill in the area of charms, classically compensated for by talent in other areas like potionsmaking or dragon taming. Unfortunately Potter had been in Charms with him for six years, he knew that Draco was exceptional at that kind of magic.

One of the cuter if least usable explanations romance novels offered was that the character unconsciously knew they were in love, but were scared to confirm it so they had a kind of mental block that stopped them from being able to perform the spell. He couldn’t exactly go up to Potter like “I think I’m in love with someone but I’d prefer not to know.” That would lead to a lot of questions Draco would not be able to answer without lying and digging himself a deeper hole.

Alternately, he could follow the plot of _Foxhole_ and get stuck in animagus form. That would fix all his problems. If he were—oh, he didn’t know, he’d always fancied himself a falcon—he wouldn’t have to bother with all this nonsense. He would get kicked out of the aurors because a falcon can’t fight dark wizards or whatever it was aurors did and he would finally crush that last bit of hope that Potter could love him back because Potter would never get with a bird. Or at least not that kind of bird. There was only one snag: he wasn’t an animagus. He would have had to have started on this plan months ago.

Lounging in the chair, limbs akimbo, his eyes scanned his bookshelf listlessly. They lit upon Justine Oppenheimer's name. Her books were on the more realistic end, still tropetastic but she played them straight and managed to turn them on their heads in ways that felt natural, as if she had discovered the way the tropes were always supposed to have been done. She didn’t write many Patronus Ex Machina stories, but the two she had were some of his favorites. He reached out, thumbing over _Jumping In Cold_ , nearly overbalancing. The protagonist, Julia, spent a great portion of the novel overcoming self esteem issues. One of the more serious in the genre, but extremely well done.

For Julia, her roadblocks to casting a Patronus were a lack of confidence and being unable to summon up the required sentiment. Those would work. Draco had self confidence issues and he was only occasionally good at being happy. Plus, there was no way Potter could blame himself for Draco being unable to overcome these obstacles.

Satisfied with his work, he laid down to sleep. He always knew reading all those romance novels would come in handy someday.

 

Wednesday was possibly Draco’s least favorite day of the week. In the front of the class, Kingfisher was droning on about Russian pixies and their differences from the Cornish variety. It reminded him of Binns and how the ghost had managed to turn fascinating material into a snorefest. Magical creatures had never held Draco’s interest to start with and then they had to put the most boring man he had ever had the displeasure of meeting in charge of teaching. Suffice to say, Draco couldn’t pay attention for the life of him. He had given up long ago. He was trying to read _The Love Spell_ under the table without Kingfisher noticing.

Parvati smirked at him from the seat next to his. She knew all this stuff already, having long harbored a love for creatures of all shapes and sizes. It was a distant sort of love, she had no desire to be all up in the creatures’ business, happy enough to observe them from afar. She would often lament the fact that creatures tended to smell. If she wasn’t there, Draco never would pass this class.

“Russian pixies are genuinely fascinating. They’ve formed complex societies that seem to mirror the flora around them. I wonder if he’s ever going to mention their penchant for stealing undergarments.” She giggled behind her hand.

“Doubtful. If it’s a fun fact, Kingfisher thinks it’s not worth mentioning,” He muttered, making her have to muffle her resulting laugh.

Kingfisher squinted at them but let it pass.

 

Lunch found the two of them at La Piccola Casa, their normal Wednesday place since they both needed a pick-me-up after Kingfisher.

“You’re going to be assigned to dark creatures, obviously.” Draco gestured with his linguine-covered fork. “But I can’t imagine what they’ll do with me.”

Parvati held her hand up to tell him to wait as she swallowed down a large amount of calzone. “You’d be great on with the Dark Wizard Catchers. I’ve never seen anyone duel like you do.”

Draco snorted. “They’re never going to let me chase dark wizards, they’re too afraid I’d betray them.”

“If they were so worried about that they wouldn’t let you become an auror.”

“They just lost a lot of people when the Dark Lord came back and are desperate for recruits. They’re going to put me on some squad they consider low risk and hope that I get so frustrated that I quit.”

“Merlin, don’t be so optimistic.” Parvati set down her cutlery. “If that’s what you really think they’re going to do to you, why are you even bothering to go through all this? What’s getting you through Kingfisher every week if you believe they’re just going to make your life miserable?”

The lilt in her voice implied it was a joke, but Draco could hear the serious undertone. “I need to do this. You’ve said the same before, but it’s different for me. You want to protect your friends in ways you weren’t able to before.” Parvati winced. They’d had a similar conversation a while back over drinks where they had both answered the getting-to-know-you questions of auror trainees and the alcohol had loosened their tongues enough to make their responses more personal than they normally would have permitted. It had been an important bonding moment early in their friendship. “I, on the other hand,  need to make up for the harm I’ve done.”

“We were so young, you can hardly be blamed for going along with your family’s wishes.” Parvati’s arguments were like the ones he had heard at his trial. _So young, under intense pressure, did you hear He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had taken over his home when he was told to join the Death Eaters? He really didn’t have a choice_. But none of them had been there. None of them knew what he knew. He had a choice, he had desperately wanted to prove himself. The Dark Lord didn’t take reluctant servants. Later, he might have regretted it, but when he received the Dark Mark he had been gleeful to have his potential recognized. He wasn’t forced into anything.

She could see the disagreement in his face. “You didn’t do anything that bad.”

That was the worst lie of the bunch. Much of what had happened during the war was known only by a select few, namely Harry Potter and his closest allies, and they controlled the dissemination of that information. Therefore, no one knew the extent of what he did. He didn’t know why, but they had never revealed that he had been essential in the killing of Albus Dumbledore and the fall of Hogwarts into the Dark Lord’s hands. He hadn’t found it in himself to tell Parvati yet. Someday, maybe after he had forgiven himself for it, but that day hadn’t come.

He stirred his drink and hummed noncommittally. “Besides, the Dark Wizard Catcher Team’s going to be full once they get Potter, Granger and Weasley. Even if I had a chance, those three would get priority.”

“They do have experience,” Parvati said offhandedly, mouth curving into a smile around her straw.

“A little,” Draco agreed sardonically.

“More than the rest of us anyways.”

“I think we are the most qualified trainee class to ever pass through Ministry halls. Literally all of us have fought dark wizards. Technically.”

“I didn’t put the Battle of Hogwarts on my application, but it was implied.” Her smile faded. “I don’t want to be in a fight like that again. It’s not—Dueling isn’t my thing. Hurting people—that can’t be a part of my job.”

“They’re not going to assign you to Dark Wizards or Rogues on the Run. There are a thousand other departments.”

She seemed concerned with the patterns in the sauce left on her plate. “I hope you’re right.”

 

Draco was ready when Potter met him in the cemetery. “I think I’m struggling to get a powerful enough emotion behind the spell.”

Potter’s eyes lit up, excited to have something tangible they could work on. “Great! Or, uh, not great, but it’s good to know these things.”

Pleased Potter took the bait, Draco figured he could probably draw out this line of work for today’s whole session and he could save self confidence issues for the next one. Having a plan made him feel more secure than he had during the previous sessions. The blindfold slipped over his eyes, but the sensation was familiar now, as was the specific way Potter’s clumsy side along apparition felt. Embarrassingly enough, he was fairly certain that he would be able to identify Potter by the harsh tug at his navel alone.

The living room furniture was still pushed to the side from yesterday. They settled down on the floor facing each other.

“In third year, Lupin taught me how to cast the Patronus—”

“So you’ve mentioned.” Was it just Draco or were Potter’s eyes especially green today?

“Hush. Anyways, he told me to get the happiest memory I could find and hold onto it. Can you do that?”

This method of putting the wizard in the right mood for the Patronus was not new to Draco who had read a million different stories about people casting the charm. If anyone had asked, he could have rattled off a dozen other strategies off the top of his head. But Potter didn’t need to know that. He nodded along like this was new information to him.

“Do you have a memory in mind?”

Draco nodded, though he didn’t really. It was a difficult task to pick out the happiest moment of his life. Much of his childhood had been tainted retroactively by events during the war, people with whom he had spent idyllic summer days turned out to have been monsters and the places where he had felt safe had been used for torture.

“Now, try.”

This time Draco didn’t even have to hold back his power because he knew he didn’t have the correct emotion to make the Patronus.

“Memory not strong enough, eh?” Potter frowned, but didn’t look terribly surprised. “Finding the right memory can be hard. Once I used— it isn’t even a memory really. It’s just a feeling.” He paused, seeming to debate with himself as to whether or not he wanted to say what came next. “It’s my mother’s laugh. And I know that there’s no way I can actually remember her, but it worked.” With a flick of his wand, there was a silvery stag as if to prove his point. “If you can’t think of a whole memory, anything that inspires a powerful contentedness is good, too.”

But Draco wasn’t listening, his attention on the stag. He hadn’t seen Potter’s Patronus this close since that time in third year when Potter had summoned it on the quidditch pitch, throwing him and his friends into disarray. It was a lovely beast, proud and graceful. His breath caught. Not only were his and Potter’s Patronus the same species, they seemed to be the exact same animal. Everything from how the antlers curved to the faintest suggestions of a pattern on its back were the same.

His romance novels varied on how the Patronus would show the character’s love. Some had it so the Patronus became the same animal but of a different gender, in which case Draco would have a doe. Others had it so both parties switched Patronuses to represent their mutual love. One book had even had both of their Patronuses change to an animal completely distinct from what they had started out with but represented how they had changed. Having one character’s Patronus become identical to the other’s was a boring choice, one that Draco used to scoff at for being lazy. But lo and behold, it was the one that had happened to him.

“Can’t think of anything?” Potter’s words startled him out of his revelation. “Talk me through what you usually do because it seems to work better than the memory did. Maybe we can develop that into something usable.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if the memory thing is going to work for me. Normally I think about how the Dark Lord is gone and no one will have to go through what we did again.” Visualization was the official name of the method he used. He sourced his happiness from an irrepressible hope for the future. He found it to be a lot easier to be happy for what had not yet come to pass than what had. The image of a healing world powered his incantations.

“Huh. Not what I was expecting.” Potter had a single eyebrow raised. “Take that idea and hone in on it, expand it. Make it mean more. Add stuff to it. For me, if I were going to start with that as the base, I would tack on everyone I love living a full life and having children with full lives.”

That was incredibly cute. Draco didn’t want to patronize the man who had saved the Wizarding World or anything, but his love for his friends was endearing. And it was adorable that he thought Draco couldn’t come up with anything on his own. Adorable and annoying. Maintaining a facade of  incompetence was dragging on him. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

“Meditate on that image. I’m going to go ask Kreacher to make us something to eat. When I get back, we’ll try casting.” Potter got up and disappeared into the hallway.

Draco laid back on the dusty ground, stretching out his back. He did as Potter told him to, because why the hell not. If he could make his visualization more powerful, that would be great. He could hear the muffled sound of Potter talking with someone. He couldn’t make out the words as he stared at the ceiling. The room had some nice crown molding; if he had to date it, he’d say it was from the Victorian Era. Potter still hadn’t explained to him how he’d come into possession of this house which clearly had a history more akin to Draco’s than his.

Last session he had met the house elf and he had been surprised that Granger would permit Potter to keep one. Kreacher didn’t seem like a high quality house elf, old and cantankerous, but he was still more than Draco had expected him to have. Kreacher must have come with the house. Which, of course, led back to the question of why Potter was living in this dower residence. He was renovating, thank Salazar, but there was only so much one could do without knocking down the whole thing and starting from scratch.

The warmth of the fireplace had chased off the winter chill. Draco blinked slowly. Lightly he dozed, lulled by the roaring fire.  He didn’t notice Potter re-entering the room and pausing in the doorway. Next thing he knew he was being gently nudged awake to the sight of little ham and cheese sandwiches.

Potter held out the plate to him. There was an amused glint to his eye. “That’s enough for tonight, I suppose.”

Pansy wouldn’t get her chance to ream him on Friday because Draco was going to die of mortification now. Who falls asleep on the floor in the middle of a study session? Apparently him. He didn’t meet Potter’s eyes as he ate one of the sandwiches.

“Give it one last try and then we can head out.” Potter set the platter on the ground and turned to him expectantly.

He wanted to show some progress to make Potter feel like these sessions weren’t completely useless. Sitting up, he concentrated and waved his wand. The mist that came out was denser than it had been on previous attempts. Potter actually clapped, the loser. Draco found himself blushing because if Potter was pathetic Draco had to be moreso.

“That’s great! There’s still a ways to go, but you’re better than you were.” Behind his glasses, his eyes dimmed. “I won’t see you again until Saturday, though, so make sure to keep practicing on your own time.”

“Yeah, I will.”

Potter glanced towards the front door and then back at Draco. “Uh, there’s going to be more people at the cemetery over the weekend—” In the middle of winter? “—so you ought to just come straight here. It’s, uh, 12 Grimmauld Place. The old Black family home.”

Draco had a lot of questions. Too many, really. But he didn’t want to push his luck. Potter had just let him into his Fidelius charm. He appreciated the sentiment, but it wasn’t that smart and he wanted to get out of there before Potter changed his mind. “Okay, cool. So I’ll be heading out now. See you on Saturday.”

“Yeah.”

And this time Draco was able to walk out the door without a blindfold. Potter watched him leave from the front stoop, a dark outline in the light from the entryway.

Somehow the night didn’t feel as cold as it had earlier.

 

Parvati was running late. It happened every so often. No one can be punctual all the time without it being a neurosis. But still Draco felt unsettled as he waited with their two coffees slowly cooling at his desk. Absentmindedly he cast a heating charm to keep them warm. The worry didn’t really kick in until they were meant to head to Disguises and she remained missing.

She showed up a half hour into class only to pull Draco out for a talk with Pembroke. Half dragging him down the hall, she murmured, “Don’t freak out, okay? Just promise me you won’t do anything overdramatic. This was the best I could do.”

Draco could only splutter before they reached Pembroke’s office. “I would have you know that I never overreact.”

Parvati rolled her eyes and led him into the room.

Pembroke looked up from the paper he was filling out and motioned for them to sit down, closing the door with a wordless incantation. “Mister Malfoy, I have heard about your… extenuating circumstances regarding the Patronus.” Draco turned to Parvati with wide eyes and mouthed _traitor_. Parvati didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed. “Could you confirm Miss Patel’s story for me?”

Pulling himself together, Draco nodded and sent a white stag galloping from his wand. Pembroke gaped with reckless abandon. “Well, I’ll be. This does call for more… privacy around your test than we regularly afford. I’ll bring it up with Head Auror Orlong and see what we can do. I can’t promise much, I’m afraid.”

“If this could be kept between as few people as possible, I’d appreciate it.” Draco leaned forward. “It’s a matter I’d like to be kept discreet. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course, of course.” Pembroke’s hat nearly hit his desk with all the vigorous nodding he was doing. “Although, I’m sure you can understand, this will limit your, ah, partnering options. We can’t have romantic entanglements within a squad.”

Would this be added to his file? _Do not pair with Potter, he is pathetically in love with him._ He wasn’t going to get partnered with him anyways, didn’t even want to be partnered with him. What a mess that would be. At least if nothing else came out of this, he would be able to rest safe on the knowledge that they would never pair him with Potter. “Of course,” Draco simpered. “If that’s all, could we get back to class?”

Once in the hall, Draco hissed, “I can’t believe you ratted me out to Pembroke of all people.”

“What’s worse, Pembroke knowing about your crush or Harry and all his soon-to-be auror pals? I was hoping he’d give you a private test or something, but it turns out there’s like protocols or whatever,” Parvati whispered back just as harshly.

“Yeah, it’s called ethics and accountability. They don’t test people one-on-one as a way to prevent the examiners having a deal with a trainee. More witnesses and stuff.”

“He’s going to try to do something at least.”

“Because he knows if this gets out it will tear up the incoming aurors. Can you picture it? People would take sides, like this is something you can take sides on. My working relationship with almost everyone would be ruined.”

Parvati elbowed him playfully. “You’d still have me.”

“I mean, I’d probably quit. So thanks for the sentiment and all…”

“You bastard, take support when it’s offered.” Parvati stopped him before they entered the classroom. Her eyes flicked up to meet his and she asked, “We still on for tonight?” But what Draco heard was “Are we still fine?”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, nothing’s going to get between me and _Knights_. I’ve waited more than long enough.”

 

Flourish and Blotts was dead. Thursday evenings weren’t the most popular time to buy books. It wasn’t like Wednesday when they held their weekly Howl and the shop was littered with spritely witches nervous to share their poems or the weekend when book lovers would descend looking for an escape from their day job. Thursday was an ideal day for Draco and Parvati to semi-secretly purchase what was certain to be their newest guilty pleasure read right next to _Chamomile Kisses_ and _The Long Road to You_.

The store must have known Rhian’s latest release would draw in a lot of people because they gave it its own table stacked high with copies of the book and a large sign that read _Join us on Saturday for a book signing with Priyah Rhian_ in color-changing letters.

Parvati turned to Draco slowly and he knew what was coming. “We have to go.”

He wanted to, oh he wanted to, but… “I have a meeting with Potter. And I thought you had your meeting with Granger, too.”

Parvati waved away his concern flippantly. “I’ll just ask her if we can move it.”

“Well, you have fun.”

“Draco, you have to go. You aren’t meeting with Harry all day, are you?”

He shook his head.

“Then just meet him at sometime other than—” She squinted her eyes at the sign. “—two to four in the afternoon. Why don’t you have your practice session in the morning?”

“Friday’s book club. I’m going to be hungover.”

“Meet in the evening then,” she suggested reasonably. But it didn’t feel so reasonable to him. Evenings are… intimate. Sure they had met in the evening every other practice session, but that was on a weekday after work. They didn’t have a choice. But to deliberately meet up in the evening on a weekend, that was something he would do with friends. To meet up one-on-one during the evening, that was romantic. Or he was reading too much into it. Definitely reading too much into it.

His feelings must have shown on his face because she prodded one last time. “It’s Rhian.”

She had him there. “Fuck, okay, yeah, I’ll reschedule.”

 

“I finished the book,” Parvati said in lieu of a greeting. “Wow. It’s—Wow.”

Draco couldn’t blame her. He had also stayed up all night reading and her reaction was completely on point. “I know. His sacrifice at the end—”

“And her sister’s surprise pregnancy—”

“Lorelei’s redemption arc—”

“I was so glad to see that she didn’t just make his ex evil for no reason.”

“Yeah, that was really cool.” They paused, overwhelmed by the memories of the masterwork they had just finished.

“I’m so tired,” Parvati admitted.

“Me too.” Not sleeping was not the greatest plan he had ever had. “Want to be late to International Law and get some coffee?”

 

“You got that right. And that ending!”

“That ending!” She echoed.

“I’m really happy that you talked me into going to the signing, that book was a revelation—” Their endless paroxysms of delight had to be put on hold as Draco spotted Potter. “Give me a moment.”

Parvati followed his gaze and nodded in understanding.

There were still people milling around, preparing to face the cold for a bite to eat. Weasley and Granger hovered next to Potter. A grimace passed over Draco’s face. He’d prefer to talk to Potter without an audience, but it didn’t matter. The three of them seemed to be arguing. He reconsidered approaching, ultimately deciding to go ahead. Potter deserved to know that tomorrow wasn’t going to pan out the way they had originally intended and this was already rather late notice.

“Leave it alone, Ron.” Granger had a note of warning in her voice.

“She’s dating an international quidditch star, that can’t be good—” Weasley cut himself off. “Malfoy.”

Draco suppressed the instinct to respond to his tone in kind and nodded in acknowledgement. “Weasley. Don’t worry, I won’t be here for long. Just wanted let Potter know I can’t do the afternoon tomorrow anymore.”

“Is it for the same reason Parvati rescheduled?” Granger asked.

“Yeah.” There was no harm in telling her. “So is there another time we could meet?”

Potter’s brow furrowed. “No, I’m busy in the evening. If you had told me earlier this week…”

“Didn’t know until yesterday.” Draco shrugged, caught in between disappointment and happiness. On one hand, no pseudo-date, on the other, no hours of pretending he couldn’t do a spell he’d mastered years ago.

“But we can’t not meet, you still haven’t get the Patronus down—”

“Oh, I’m very close. Probably don’t even really need another practice session.” Draco laughed a little panicky.

“Are you sure—”

“Potter!” The squeaky voice of Pembroke speared the relaxed atmosphere of the pre-lunch auror trainee bullpen. “Come see me right away, please.”

Calmly Potter stood. He told Weasley and Granger to not wait up and then he strode down the hall with a far more shaken Pembroke at his side as if it had been Pembroke called in for a mysterious meeting with him and not the other way around.

Draco saw Weasley and Granger exchange glances. Maybe this wasn’t as unexpected as it appeared.

“Ron, you head on and get us a table. I’ll catch up with you in a minute once I’ve got all my papers together.” Granger had her hand pressed against the side of Weasley’s jacket. He nodded and ducked down to share a kiss before heading out. Once he was gone, Granger turned to Draco. “You can already cast a corporeal Patronus,” she accused.

Of the Golden Trio, she was the one he would mind the least knowing, but he doubted she was anywhere near ascertaining his reasons for hiding his ability. “Yes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”

He held up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Parvati knows why. If it were that bad, she would have told you about it. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m less transparent with you.”

She didn’t particularly like this response, but she accepted it, lips pursed. “There’s a lot of people who don’t want you to be here. Your application was controversial. They held a special meeting about it. Harry went. He won’t tell me exactly what happened, but it’s not hard to guess. He fought for you to be here. Don’t make him regret it.”

With those parting words, she swished off to the elevators. He was frozen with shock. Maybe she knew more than he thought she did.

 

It was Pansy who suggested the idea of a book club, back in the months following the war when even seeing each other trapped them in memories they did not wish to return to. They talked about books and only books for a long time until open wounds became scars and talking about other things became easier. Then, as book clubs were wont to do, it transformed into a weekly wine-and-gossip session with a veneer of literary interest. This week’s was going as poorly as Draco had expected.

Blaise was still hunched over laughing.

“Oh, that’s quite enough,” Draco huffed. “It’s hardly that funny.”

“But it is,” Pansy replied. “Forced to spend hours alone with Potter in his house? It’s by Rowena’s good graces alone that you haven’t done anything absolutely mortifying.”

Draco muttered something that was covered up by Blaise’s howling.

“What was that?”

Draco’s cheeks were tinged pink. “He let me into his Fidelius charm.” He said it like a confession.

If Pansy had rolled her eyes any harder they would have fallen out of her skull. “That’s reckless. The more people who know where he lives, the more danger he’s in.”

Blaise recovered from his hysterics long enough to add, “No one would ever guess he told Draco, though, so his secret’s safe,” before he fell back into them, so amused by his own wit.

Pansy sighed. “It’s cute, I’ll admit it. I’m glad that he trusts you. But this isn’t one of your romance novels, Draco. Not every sign of intimacy means someone’s in love. Confessing isn’t going to end your problems, it’s going to start new ones.”

“I know, Pans.” Deflating wasn’t the right word for what he did, but it almost was. “I’m under no delusions that this is more than it is. It’s over, anyhow.” Quiet settled awkwardly onto the table, so much so that Blaise was compelled to stop laughing. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Pansy studied him and then turned to Blaise. “Haven’t seen you for awhile. I feel like we’re so out of touch with your life. Tell me, how many girls have you been with since the last time we saw you?”

Blaise waggled his finger. “That’s a poorly phrased question. A better question is how many _people_ have I been with.”

“Thank Merlin you can always divine my true meaning,” Pansy said blandly.

 

Saturday came with an unexpected heat wave which made it warm enough that Draco didn’t need his scarf for the first time in a month. If he had been into interpreting signs, he would have seen this as a good one, but he wasn’t feeling so lucky. Even though it was something he had been telling himself, hearing the words from Pansy had been difficult. He knew it was a hopeless crush and he had long accepted that, but to have it acknowledged hurt. Without his plans with Parvati, he would have spent the day wallowing—the luxury of the weekend—but he found himself thankful that she had convinced him to go out with her. He shuddered to think of what would have happened if he had met with Potter while feeling like this. He could have given himself away. He was always worse at lying when he was sad.

There was a line outside of Flourish and Blotts, a couple dozen women standing holding copies of _Knights._ Parvati was already there, the whole series in her hands. Draco cursed. Why hadn’t he thought of that?  

Parvati smiled at him as if she could tell what he was thinking, but her expression quickly shifted to her gossip face. It was a mix of intrigued and _I really want to tell you something_. When he joined her in line, she started furiously whispering immediately. “Did you hear? Harry got sent on a mission. They’re a little skimpy on the details, but he’s going with Yolanda and Eventir so it’s got to be a Death Eater.”

Draco felt his stomach drop. “How long is he going to be gone for?”

“No idea. He’s not even graduated and he’s going on a mission! Isn’t that against the rules?”

Draco shrugged but the gesture felt empty. “It’s not like he hasn’t done this kind of thing before. Maybe they’re using him as bait to draw the guy out.”

Parvati considered it. “Maybe.”

The line started to move, Rhian had officially arrived. For a moment their topic of conversation was forgotten, but Parvati brought it up again once they got inside.

“I’d hate to be on a mission like that,” Parvati whispered, looking down at the books in her arms. “Hunting a guy down.”

“That’s the job.”

She grimaced and tugged at her robes. “I’d much prefer the Dark Creatures Unit.”

“Thank Merlin, because you’re a shoe in for that.”

“You really think so?”

“They’d have to not be paying any attention at all to not choose you,” he assured.

She flashed him a quick smile and then it was their turn. Rhian was amazing, an absolute goddess. Draco walked away from the signing stunned and humbled.

“Wow,” Parvati breathed as they left the bookshop.

Draco nodded. “Wow.”

 

Saturday ended with a fire message from his mother cancelling Sunday brunch because his father was feeling unwell. With nothing happening, Draco had to find a way to distract himself from worrying about what was to come. He hadn’t gotten so much reading done in a long time.

 

Pembroke caught Draco before he walked into the bullpen, nearly startling him into dropping his and Parvati’s coffees. “The Captain’s finally come around. You can take the test in private. We’ll have the Captain and myself there, but nobody else.”

A wave of relief washed over him. He couldn’t believe there had ever been a time when he had disliked this man. “Thank you so much, sir.”  

“It was the least I could do. There was a hairy moment there on Friday when the Captain was still against it, but I convinced Yolanda to take Potter out for training, just in case. This is much better though.”

Potter had been sent on a mission just to protect Draco’s privacy? He had thought it was the usual preferential treatment. In a daze, he replied, “Yes, it appears everything worked out for the best.”

He left the office a little stunned.

 

His test was before everyone else’s. Pembroke told him the plan was to have him leave and they would claim that he had to address a family emergency. Draco wouldn’t say no to a half day. The Captain, Head Auror Orlong, was an intimidating man. He wasn’t usually at these exams. It was curious that he wanted to be at this one.

“Mister Malfoy, if you would.” Pembroke gestured, his hat flopping.

Draco eyed the Captain as he waved his wand. The stag that appeared was more solid than it had ever been, Potter’s tips for visualization coming in handy not due to his actual suggestions but rather because now every time he visualized for the spell he was reminded of that night. How disgusting.

Pembroke’s hat wobbled with excitement. “Egads! That was beautiful. A masterful performance.”

“So it’s true.” Orlong’s smooth baritone cut through his colleague’s praise with efficiency. “The Malfoy heir is in love with Harry Potter. What a farce.” Inside, Draco was furious. Only his friends got to make fun of how ridiculous his situation was. He kept up a cool facade, his Occlumency barriers up. “Any assistance you need to keep this quiet, we will provide. Pembroke.” The man’s ears perked up. “Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. Oh, and Malfoy? You can tell Patel that the two of you will be placed in the Dark Creatures Unit.”   

 

Instead of going home, he went to La Piccola Casa. He nursed a latte waiting for Parvati to arrive. Hannah had given him space, able to sense he wasn’t yet prepared for company.

It was a lot to process. The higher-ups knew _and believed it was a problem_ that he loved Potter. That was… unsettling. And the way the Captain had said he would be a part of the Dark Creatures Unit, as if there had been any doubt. As if in a world where he hadn’t loved Potter, he would have been placed in a unit with more prestige. Which was more mobility than he had believed he had. He had thought that no matter what he did he was going to be shunted off into some eternally underfunded corner where he would waste away with some ancient wizard who had been there since the 70’s. He  had never dreamed that they would have given him a greater chance only for him to ruin it with his hopeless little crush.

But that was the crux of the issue, wasn’t it? Patronuses didn’t change for little crushes. He was in love. And Potter was set to be the star auror of the Magical Department of Law Enforcement, the Captain couldn’t let anything get in the way of that. Therefore Draco was sent to the unit Potter would interact with least.

Parvati would be there, though, and that was a kindness he wasn’t expecting. Orlong didn’t mean it as a consolation prize, but Draco was grateful. He now had a guarantee his life as a full-fledged auror wouldn’t be miserable and full of coworkers who resented him.

Lunch time finally rolled around and Parvati came to interrupt his thoughts. She sat down beside him and took in his partially downed drink. “How’d it go?”

“I passed, of course. The interesting thing is that Orlong informed me that the both of us will be put in the Dark Creatures Unit.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up.

He nodded.

“We’re going to be partners!”

A smile snuck its way onto his face. “Yeah.”

“Thank Merlin. I had been worried that they’d put me on the same team as someone I hooked up with back in school.”

Draco guffawed. “Not a problem for me, no one I’ve gotten with would ever decide to be an auror.”

“Clearly the way to go.”

Hannah walked up to their table. “Hey guys, what do you want?”

“Just a latte today. Did you hear? Both me and Draco passed the Patronus test!”

Hannah smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Glad to hear it.”

“Orlong was at Draco’s test, though. I don’t know that I’d be able to cast a corporeal Patronus with him in the room.” Parvati shivered. “Why was he even there?”

“He wanted to see my humiliation for himself.”

“Oh, I’m sure it wasn’t that,” Hannah said.

Draco sighed. Maybe he was being overdramatic. “He could’ve been gauging it from a personnel management angle, like trying to see if I could be paired with Potter on missions. If I’m in love with him, it’s a liability.”

“But they’re going to send Hermione and Ron into the field together,” Parvati interjected. “They’re in love.”

“But they’re together. And not as problem-inducing as me and Potter.”

“You clearly haven’t been around Hermione and Ron enough,” she muttered.

“They do argue quite a lot,” Hannah agreed reluctantly.

“The situation is still different,” he insisted.

Hannah chewed on her bottom lip and glanced between them. “It probably has a lot more to do with who you are. If I remember correctly, he was one of the aurors to go rogue during He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s takeover of the government. I can’t imagine he’d be pleased to have a former Death Eater on his squad.”  

Parvati leveled him a look. “Rules are going to be strictly enforced for you that aren’t for anybody else.”

“And with you in the same department…”

She took a deep breath. “My fate is tied to yours.”

 

One of Draco’s least favorite things was when the will-they-won’t-they was too drawn out. Slow burn romances were great, but if they stopped being compelling part way through, they turned into torturous slogs. The absolute worst, though, was when he started to get the suspicion that the answer to will-they-won’t-they was going to be a negative. That the characters would finish their arcs deciding to _focus on themselves_ or _on their career_ , and leave the love interest in the dust in the name of subversion. His love story was worse than that because he was going to be alone and he wasn’t even going to grow into a strong, confident person by the end of it.

This feeling carried with him through “graduation.” There was no ceremony, they were simply handed their assignments and sent to work instead of class. Once they started, though, he no longer had time to feel sorry for himself. He and Parvati had too much on their plate.

The Dark Creatures Unit, officially entitled the Squad for the Containment and Control of Potentially Dangerous Creatures, was indeed staffed by one witch.

“Call me Gerry,” she said, eyes crinkling. “Linda retired a couple weeks ago, it’s unfortunate you two missed her.”

She didn’t look far from retirement herself and it was soon revealed that she was only sticking around until the end of the year, “until you two have settled in.” When New Year’s rolled around, Parvati was promoted to Squadron Leader, even though her team was just her and Draco. Under her leadership, they transformed the Dark Creatures Unit from primarily reactionary—going out only when there were reports of disturbances—to active—doing research to find hotbeds of dark creatures near urban centers so they could enact preventative measures for if those creatures ever became violent.

It wasn’t until the closing of Azkaban that they became truly busy. Without the Ministry providing them victims, the Dementors left, spreading across the United Kingdom. They were out everyday taking in Dementors to be shipped off wherever the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures deemed fit. It was through this ongoing mission to round up all the Dementors that their unit gained the notoriety and respect that it had until this point lacked. People whispered about their prowess and, concerningly, about Draco’s Patronus.

There was an incident where a small pack of Dementors had made it into London. Usually they stuck to the countryside, but these ones must have been greedy. Parvati had to deal with crowd control, making sure civilians, especially muggles, stayed out of the way. They didn’t have the time they usually did to make this operation nice and neat. Draco cast a powerful Patronus, hoping to one-and-done it. The stag came out nearly solid white, its form incredibly well-defined. Silvery mist trailed in its wake, helping to herd the three Dementors into a circle so Draco could bind them. The crowd had gasped. Draco hurried up his work. With the Dementor crisis as it was, they were performing in front of crowds frequently.

A well-cast Patronus was a novelty to the layman. Quickly word of his stag spread. Potter’s Patronus, far more rarely seen, remained uncommon knowledge.

Even of those who knew both, only a few put two and two together. Granger did, as well as Finnegan strangely enough. It made working with the Demolitions Unit wildly awkward because he was also one of Parvati’s old hook ups.

Potter never figured it out. Allegedly he found it odd that Draco was so good at the charm less than a year after not being able to do it at all, but he had never questioned it being a stag. Draco had heard this all through Parvati who’d heard it from someone else. He didn’t talk to Potter much, the dark wizard hunting kept him busy and far away. While the Dark Creatures Unit might get the “most improved” sticker, it was the Dark Wizard Catchers who were blowing everyone away. They had increased arrests by 54% since Potter and his gang joined the team. Potter attributed it to there simply being more people to arrest—Death Eaters on the run were a recent phenomenon—but others claimed he was being humble. Their biggest success was the capture of Antonin Sokolov, a dark wizard wanted by Russia for multiple counts of murder since 1987. People called that case impressive, said it would put Britain back on the map.

For Draco, the most important thing about that case was that it kept Potter in Iceland for two whole months. The separation was a relief, but, frustratingly, he also found himself missing him. Whenever Potter was in town, he would make sure to talk to Draco and invite him to get-togethers with his friends. They had gotten drinks a couple of times and had dinner once or twice, but that was not enough. It would have to be, though, because it was all he was going to get.

 

The Captain called them into his office. Draco and Parvati entered warily, not expecting good news. The Dark Wizard Catchers were already there, casually chatting amongst themselves. Potter caught Draco’s eye and smiled at him. He looked rough. Last Draco had heard he was on a mission in the Scottish Highlands. He must have gotten back last night.

Orlong cleared his throat and everyone fell silent. “We have received information that there is a dark wizard amassing an army of Dementors in the north. Elect two of your own for this mission.”

“Harry, Ron, I’m leaving this one to you,” Yolanda said.

The Captain’s face stayed blank. “Dark Creatures, you will accompany the Dark Wizard Catchers.”

Draco and Parvati nodded.

“You ship out in two days, files will be on your desks.”

 

In general, the Dark Creatures Unit didn’t get orders from the brass.

“This is a good thing.” Parvati had busted out the hairbrush she kept in her desk for emergencies, a bad sign. “Think about it. In the past, they just would have sent the Dark Wizard Catchers and let them deal with the Dementors on their own. Maybe this means people are starting to take us seriously.” Her hair was already tangle-free but she continued brushing furiously.   

“Yeah,” Draco replied soothingly. “Our job is to capture, contain and cart off, the same as always. We’re there to handle the Dementors so Potter and Weasley can focus on getting the bad guy. It’ll be just like Cardiff. Merlin, think about the annoyance that’ll be transporting those suckers.”

She laughed weakly. “I wonder how many Dementors this guy has on his side. The estimates say anywhere from 25 to 50. Maybe we’ll set a new record.”

“To 33 or more!” He mimed cheering with his empty coffee cup.

She giggled, finally setting down the hairbrush. “Weren’t there less than 300 Dementors in Azkaban? How many can there be left to catch?”

“Do you think they’re reproducing? Wait, how do Dementors even reproduce?”

“It’s really fascinating, they—”

“Is it gross?”

She considered his question before making a face. “A little.”

“Then I don’t want to hear it.”

She laughed. “I wish we had more hands on deck. Not that we aren’t great, but Orlong’s not giving us any of the new recruits.”

“It’s absurd.”

She looked down at her hands. “It’s just… this is going to be the most dangerous mission we’ve ever been on. There aren’t just the most Dementors we’ve ever had to face at one time, there’s also a dark wizard directing them.”

“As a person who has been around a dark wizard with legions of Dementors at his side, take it from me that Dementors don’t take orders very well. And Potter and Weasley will take care of the dark wizard. Merlin, I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t even get to see them fight. I mean, if I were a dark wizard, I’d keep my Dementor army as far away from me as I could.” Draco had a sinking feeling that they would be a lot closer to the battle than he would prefer, but it was best to not mention that.

“You’re right.” She stowed the hairbrush. “Well, for the next two days our mission is to get as much rest as possible. You know what that means?”

“Tomorrow we work from home?”

“Tomorrow we work from home! For the morning, anyways. I want to run some analyses on Brighton. With the holiday coming up we’re under a bit of a time crunch,” she said apologetically.

“Half day and then three hours of analyzing data! The perfect day, really.”

She grimaced. “Yeah, yeah. Keep your sticky, arithmancy-loving hands away from me.”

Draco grinned.

 

The thing was, he wasn’t sure how he felt about this mission. Oh, he was nervous, for sure. Everything Parvati had said was true. But he would also be working with Potter. How exciting and terrifying. Not being around him much, while frustrating, severely lessened the chance that Potter would discover his secret, so he had been able to comfort himself with that. But going on a mission with him…

Draco had read enough romance novels to know intense situations could lead to intense… moments. Kisses, confessions, the whole thing. Everything he wanted to avoid. Everything he wanted, full stop. At least if Potter rejected him, he would know. Well, he already knew, but then he would really know and he would be able to move on from this horrible limbo where he read into every touch, every glance.

But Draco had always been a coward so he promised himself he would never let himself be alone with Potter while on the mission.

 

Reinhardt had taken over a castle because Merlin knows dark wizards had to be dramatic. It was crumbling, an old ruin left to the care of muggles who didn’t bother with upkeep. The four of them were gathered outside of the wall that had once protected the grounds, now weathered down enough they could step over it. The parameters of their mission were outlined one last time: the primary objective was the neutralization of the target, the capture of the Dementors was secondary. Potter and Weasley were outfitted in dragonhide from head to feet looking every inch the Dark Wizard Catchers they were. Draco and Parvati were not nearly so professional, wearing black clothing that was ultimately civilian.

“I feel underdressed,” Draco whispered to Parvati as the other two checked the perimeter or whatever it was Dark Wizard Catchers did.

“Do they get paid more than we do? I couldn’t afford a getup like that,” she hissed back.

“Their risk compensation is higher.”

She huffed. “I want dragonhide boots.”

“I’ll get you some for your birthday.”

“They should be gold.”

“Gold? What about stealth?”

Weasley called something out and Potter went over to him.

Parvati snorted as they rushed over to join them, pretending like they hadn’t been useless. “Dementors can’t see. Let me have my rocking gold dragonhide boots. What are you, the fun police?”

“No, just the regular kind.”

That was all Draco got in before Potter announced they had found a way in that wouldn’t trigger the wards. They crept along doing whatever Potter and Weasley told them. Soon enough they were inside the castle. Though the exterior had projected a sense of disrepair, the interior told another story. Lavish tapestries covered the walls, the light from olden braziers making the gold and silver threads shine. The floor was immaculate without a hint of dust. All of the ceilings had been transfigured into mirrors, an odd design choice that was rather unnerving. Draco watched the four of them make their way into the banquet hall in the upside down world of their reflections. It was then that he spotted the first Dementor. It was alone, sneaking up towards Weasley. A sole Dementor was easy to bind. He banished it to the paddock they had cleared for Dementor-holding.

“Do you think it’s a scout?” Parvati whispered.

Draco started to say “Let’s hope not,” but he couldn’t get the whole phrase out before a hoard of Dementors came swooping in from every door to the banquet hall. Parvati’s Patronus lept towards the closest ones. The cat was soon joined by a terrier and a stag, though not Draco’s. The silvery animals kept the Dementors at a distance, but they were unused to working together. They kept bumping into each other, leaving holes in their defense. Adding another into the mix wouldn’t help anything. Instead, he shot fire at every horrid creature that passed the line held by the Patronuses.

Until they were bound, the Dementors couldn’t be sent to the paddock. Capture would have to wait.

The four aurors stood in a tight circle, backs to each other. The Dementors were on all sides, things weren’t looking good. Draco risked a glance at Parvati to see if her nerves had returned. Her eyes were narrowed in determination, stance sure. There were no signs she had ever been afraid. He rolled his eyes, covering up his relief. Gryffindors.

They were making steady progress pushing the hoard back. Dementors were being forced out of the room. All that was thwarted when the man they had come here to find stepped into the banquet hall at the other end of the long table.

“It looks like we have guests! You should have let me known you were coming, I could have prepared a feast.”

Oh Salazar, he was a smug prick. Draco hoped he had never been that bad.

The jack russell terrier disappeared as Weasley turned around to engage the dark wizard. The stag stuck around, though, even as Potter waded in to support his friend. Spells flew. Draco split his focus between protecting himself and Parvati from stray shots and managing the ever-inching-closer Dementors.

Potter and Weasley were making their way towards Reinhardt, but the four of them being separated wasn’t the best plan, so Draco motioned to Parvati to follow them. They shared a look and he nodded. They began herding all the Dementors to the part of the banquet hall where they had been. Parvati let her Patronus fade out and pointed her wand at the ceiling the same time he did. With an awful sound, the glass shattered apart as the stone above it came collapsing down. They lost sight of the Dementors behind the rubble. The Dementors would have to find another way to get to them.

Reinhardt screamed “What have you done to my castle?” and lobbed curses with a new ferocity. Potter put up a shield a second too late and fell to the ground, but with the numbers in their favor, it wasn’t long until the dark wizard was subdued.

Weasley secured the wizard before checking on Potter who waved him off.

“I’m just a little dizzy. The feeling’s returning to my legs already. Just give me a minute,” Potter assured him.

His friend nodded and clapped him on the shoulder awkwardly, having to squat down to reach him. “I’m going to go wait for transport outside with this dramatic loon.”

And then he was off, levitating his prisoner behind him.

“Are all dark wizard hunts so anticlimactic?” Draco wondered aloud.

Potter snorted. “Pretty much. If it isn’t, you haven’t done your job right.”

“Really dodged a bullet, didn’t you, Draco?” Parvati tittered.

Potter looked confused, so Draco explained. “We suspect that I was almost placed in with the Dark Wizard Catchers.”

“Suspect? Orlong confirmed it at our last quarterly review.” She grimaced. “That meeting was terrible.”

“I can’t believe he seriously isn’t giving us any of the new recruits.”

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous.”

“What? I know the graduating class is small, but—” Potter had propped himself up on his elbows, but that wasn’t what caught Draco’s eye, even though without the mission hanging over his head he could appreciate the way the dragonhide flattered his form. No, he was more concerned with the Dementor sneaking up behind him.

In a flash, he had summoned his Patronus and it ran the creature off. Parvati set about restraining it. Potter, though, just stared at the stag.

“Oh,” he said.

Draco’s stomach dropped. Potter didn’t say anything else, watching the stag as it sauntered up to him. He reached out a hand and it leaned into it. Draco’s face must have been red, he could feel it burning distantly, but he wasn’t really aware of it.

“How long?” Potter asked as he pet that damn Patronus. “Since before they tested it at least. This makes a lot more sense than you struggling with a charm.”

He couldn’t speak.

“Shit, you don’t have to answer that. It’s a personal question—”

“I don’t know.” The words he had been holding onto for so long spilled out of him. “It was a stag the first time I cast it.”

Potter’s voice was barely above a whisper. “And when was that?”

“Spring seventh year.”

The answer sat in the air between them, making it hard to breathe. Potter wouldn’t meet his eyes.

In one of Draco’s novels, that would have been when the characters confessed. Potter would have lit up, a great weight lifted off his chest, and he would have said something to the effect of “I’ve been waiting so long.” And things would have been resolved. But nothing was ever like his romance novels. In fact, he couldn’t help but anticipate this evening to be the opposite. Potter would tell him he didn’t feel the same way, but hoped to preserve their working relationship and Draco would have to smile and nod like everything was fine.

He steeled himself for it. Parvati snuck away to give them some privacy.

Potter slumped back. “Yeah, uh. So years, huh? Er, you’ve been in love with me for literal years?”

“Oh good, we’re reiterating this point. Yes, since seventeen at the latest.” This was mortifying.

“That still hasn’t sunk in. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“I haven’t been making decisions with that in mind, per se.” He shrugged. “I don’t know how I can make this clearer.”

“Becoming an auror had nothing to do with me?” Potter’s eyes bore into his.

“No.”

A tension dropped from his shoulders. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “That was the most important thing. I’ve got a lot to say, but it’s all jumbled in my head. Do you have any questions for me?”

“A few.” If by _a few_ one meant _approximately a million_. Potter didn’t know what he was getting into.

“Fire away.”

“Why did you let me in on your Fidelius charm? In general, people use that charm to keep shady suspects out of their homes, not to give them a special key.”

“I trust you,” Potter said, as if it were as easy as that.

“But why? It’s only been four years since I was a Death Eater and it’s not like we had the best track record before that.”

Potter began playing with one of his dragonhide gloves, rolling the black material between his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know, I just do. You’re not who you were, and even at your worst it’s not like you would have killed me.”

“I broke your nose.”

“I cut you up.” Like that fight in the bathroom had been anything but Draco’s fault. “Here, I’ve got a question for you. When we were in your house, why did you say you didn’t recognize me?”

Draco looked away, overcome by memories. “A lot of reasons. I didn’t want the Dark Lord to come, I certainly didn’t want him to win.”

“Do you think you were already in love with me then?”

“Yes. It was only a couple weeks later that I figured it out. Let’s move on from that to the more recent past. What were you going to say to me right before I left that first night? In the graveyard?”

“Merlin, I don’t remember. I was already considering sharing the location with you, could’ve been that. This is funny in retrospect, but early on I was convinced you were lying about not being able to do a Patronus. It might have been about that.”

“Glad to know you find me so transparent.”

“As the week went on I was more and more unsure. I figured you would find pretending to be unable to perform a charm unbearable, your pride simply wouldn’t allow it. When we were meeting for the third time and you still couldn’t do it, I thought maybe you were genuine—”

“We’re moving on.”

“Come on, you struggling with a charm? Not likely.”

“I’m flattered, but there’s no need to compliment me, since as you know, I’m already in love with you.” It was different coming from Draco’s mouth, the words heavy in a way they hadn’t been when Potter had said them. Silence descended between them, a sharp contrast to the rapport they had worked up to only seconds before. Suddenly there was only one question Draco wanted the answer to. “Why do you seek me out between missions?”

Potter shifted in his seat, gaze locked on the rubble Draco and Parvati had brought down earlier.

“We aren’t friends. Why is it that whenever you aren’t on a mission I find myself invited to lunch or drinks? Because it really fucks with me.” The rubble must have stopped being so interesting because Potter’s eyes turned towards Draco. “If you don’t mean anything by it, you need to stop—You know better now so there’s no excuse.”

“And if I do mean something by it?” Potter said intently. “What should I do then?”

“Well.” Draco hadn’t been expecting that. “You should, ah, probably tell me. And maybe ask me out. I thought Gryffindors were meant to be brave.”

“When we get back, we’re having dinner at my place.”

That would be Friday. “I’ve got plans with—”

“Cancel them.”

Draco was dazed. “That’s not exactly asking.”

“As you pointed out, you’re the one who’s already admitted he’s in love with me.” Harry grinned, way too comfortable for a person lying on the floor due to injury. “You might want to go help Parvati. From what I hear there’s quite a few Dementors left to take care of.”

 

“49 Dementors.” Parvati wrote the number in bubble letters on the whiteboard in their office. “Wow.”

“I don’t think we’re ever going to beat that.” They had just finished the paperwork for their joint mission with the Dark Wizard Catchers. Draco’s feet were up on his desk, more casual than he usually would have been, but after that mission he deserved it. Plus it was Friday, nobody cared.

“That’s not the most exciting thing that happened, though.” She leveled him with a grin. He groaned. “Harry asked you out.”

“He asked me to meet with him at his house so we can sort this out,” he responded petulantly, but he couldn’t help but smile.

She shoved his feet off the desk and took a seat. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Haha.” He grabbed his briefcase and made for the door.

Parvati stopped him. “Before you go, there’s something we need to do.”

“Hm?”

She led him to Orlong’s office and knocked with more confidence than she seemed to feel. He called them in. With a deep breath, Parvati opened the door. “Good evening, sir. Sorry to bother you so late, but there’s something I want to speak to you about.”

The Captain motioned for her to hurry up.

Parvati squared her shoulders and continued. “The Dark Creatures Unit needs more aurors. Quite frankly, it’s absurd to have only two aurors in a unit, much less one whose work is in such high demand.” Orlong looked up from his work. “With the Dementor outbreak being as serious as it is, we should have a team of ten or more. So far Malfoy and I have managed, however, the only thing that proves is that we are exceptional at our jobs. We are spread thin. I don’t know how many more times we can pull off miracles like Cardiff and yesterday. Such things can’t be expected. We need more resources of all kinds, but manpower is the most pressing. Honestly, it is surprising we haven’t received more support throughout this whole affair.”

Orlong raised an eyebrow. “What are you insinuating, Patel?”

“I understand Dark Creatures isn’t the flashiest unit and we can be lost in the shuffle,” she grit out. “But we need to get some of the new recruits.”

“Everyone needs new recruits. We’re low on men. You’ll have to make do with what you’ve got.” The Captain turned away from her to flip through the reports on his desk.

Parvati dug in her heels. “If we don’t get recruits, I’m going to take this issue to the Review Committee. I know our stats. We’ve completed more missions than most of the other units and we have one of the highest success rates. I’m certain they’ll see that sending more people our way would be an effective use of personnel.”

Orlong was silent. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises, but there may be a few trainees suited for Dark Creatures.”

“We could use someone who’s good with numbers, if possible.”

The Captain nodded. “If that’s all, I’d like to head on home.”

“Of course, sir. Have a nice night.”

And with that Parvati turned on her heel and walked out of the room.

 

Draco had been to Potter’s house before, but the townhouse felt different this time. Maybe it was the weather, not nearly so cold as before, or maybe it was the purpose of the visit. He lingered on the doorstep. This was what he had wanted for so long. It didn’t feel real. 

It had been hard to cancel book club. Pansy and Blaise hadn’t even asked why, assuming he was just busy, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell them. He didn’t know why. Once it was over he’d let them know. Give them a chance to laugh and make digs at them before he had to officially introduce Potter as his boyfriend, if they ever made it that far.

For all that he had joked about it with Parvati, he still wasn’t sure what  _ this  _ was. A date, probably. But Potter had invited him to his home. Did he want to hook up? Draco’s stomach churned. He had spent the week considering it. If this was his one chance… 

It was a bad idea and he knew it. Sex wasn’t on the table. Not so soon, when things were still unstable. 

This had the potential to be a very bad night. 

He tried to remind himself that it could also be very good, that it was the first step in a direction he wanted to go down. It was hard to keep that in sight, though, when his mind kept running over every way things could go wrong.

The front door opened and he startled. He must have been out here for longer than he realized. Potter’s house elf—Kreacher? Who was he kidding, he remembered everything related to Potter—stared up at him. “You are welcome to come inside. The Master wouldn’t have minded you coming in early, but being late isn’t going to go over as well.”

He had muttered the last bit under his breath. Draco flushed. The date hadn’t started and he was already messing up. This didn’t bode well. 

Potter poked his head out of the kitchen. His hair was in disarray, worse than normal. “Draco, is that you?”

So they were using first names. How novel. 

He scratched the back of his neck. “I was trying to cook, but…” 

The paint cans had been moved out of the hall in some attempt to tidy up, but their smell still permeated the air. “You’re still painting? It’s been months.”

“I don’t get around to it much. Either I’m on a mission or just got back from one so I don’t feel like painting.” He seemed embarrassed but he rallied. “The renovations have taken over the kitchen, so unless you want to eat cheese and crackers, we should probably go elsewhere.”

As in out in public? Draco hadn’t even told his friends, he didn’t want all of London to know. This could fizzle out tonight and if it did he wanted as few people to know as possible. Which wouldn’t happen if  _ Harry Potter _ went on a date. “I wouldn’t mind cheese and crackers.”

On the plus side, if Harry wanted them to go out, it pointed to this being more than just a hookup. Merlin, he could call him Harry now. 

Harry frowned. “We aren’t eating cheese and crackers on our first date.”

“Take out?” Not exactly the pinnacle of romance, but drastic times call for drastic measures. 

“Why don’t you want to eat out?”

Draco sighed. “I don’t want to be on the front page of  _ The Prophet _ .” 

“They wouldn’t.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

“They thought you were dating  _ Hermione _ . Merlin, they still publish articles every time you two go anywhere without Weasley.” What a bizzare ongoing thread that was. The gossip column would have him believe that some kind of soap opera was happening within Dark Wizard Catchers the likes of which the department had never seen. Of course, he knew better, but he read the stories religiously. They were strangely compelling. If Rita Skeeter left her job as a journalist, she could be a successful author. 

Harry winced. The articles were probably not his favorite part of the week. “So we can’t eat here and we can’t eat out. Take out it is.”

He seemed about as happy about this conclusion as Draco was. But he was moving, picking up his wallet from the side table. Draco watched him. None of this was going how he wanted. This was what he had waited for. Still better than he had expected. There had been no screaming, no fights and no injuries. How he felt about it, though, didn’t matter. How Harry felt about it was far more important. And he didn’t seem too pleased.

“Any preference for where we go?” he asked.

Draco shook his head. “I don’t know this side of town.”

“What are your feelings on Indian?”

He could take it or leave it depending on the restaurant. “Sounds great.”

It was darker outside than it had been when Draco arrived, moody clouds accelerating nightfall. Hopefully it wouldn’t rain, but with the way the evening had been going so far, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Streetlamps flicked on as they walked. 

He wasn’t sure what to say, so he fell back on quidditch. “The Cannons are having a good run this year. Might actually qualify for the playoffs for once.”

Harry grabbed onto the topic like a drowning man. It carried them all the way to the restaurant where Harry went in to order for them while Draco waited outside. They took the food to a nearby park and ate sitting on the swings. The food was fine. Not bad, but not good either. 

“How do you like it?” Harry asked. Draco hesitated and he laughed. “Yeah, that place’s primary advantage is that it’s close. Can’t say much else about it.”

“What’s your favorite place to eat in London?” 

“Uh, I don’t know.”

“You don’t have a list of good restaurants?” Between Parvati and Blaise, Draco had a veritable handbook of where to eat in the whole of the United Kingdom. A secondary function of the book club was scouting for the best delivery. 

“No? I like that pub, you know, the one not too far from Florean’s—”

Draco groaned. “That pigsty in Diagon Alley?”

He shrugged. Draco would have to introduce him to real food. “My life’s been consumed by work.”

“We’ll have to work on that.” 

He laughed. “What do you do outside of work? Since you’ve got this work-life balance thing down apparently.”

“Don’t overstate it. Me and Parvati are running a two man team. Even when we hang out after work it’s to run numbers and plan our course of action. We’re just good at having fun while we do it.” Draco pulled one leg up to his chest and rested his head against his knee. “I’m worried that when we get the new recruit everything will fall apart. Yeah, we’re overworked to hell, but it’s kind of us against the world. Right now we can pull stuff no other unit can get away with because it’s just us two. But with an actual subordinate, Parvati’s going to have to tighten up the ship.”

“Things will be better, though, right?”

“Yeah.” He looked at the mulch moving around as his foot dragged on the ground. “It’s just the end of an era, you know? No more ditching the office to set up matrices.”

Harry’s nose scrunched up. “Matrices?”

“I forgot you never took Arithmancy. Father would have killed me if I hadn’t.” Not that he didn’t love it. In school, though, it was more of a love-hate relationship. “I suppose you didn’t have any parents around to do that. Shit.” And Harry hadn’t had the best experiences with his father to make matters worse. 

He took the mention of his dead parents with aplomb. “I took whatever Ron was taking. Didn’t much care for any of my electives.”

That explained so much. “Divination because it was easy, Care of Magical Creatures because you liked the teacher?”

“And it was easy.”

A real model student, Harry Potter. It was such a different life from Draco’s. He had to be the best at everything or else he was failing the Malfoy name, which meant that he grew used to being a disgrace. Harry, in contrast, exceeded every high expectation set in front of him. His weren’t being top of the class, instead residing somewhere alongside  _ saving the world  _ and  _ living up to the reputations of his parents.  _ When phrased like that, Draco’s accomplishments felt petty.

This was his least favorite part of being around Harry, the inevitable comparisons that left him feeling lacking. It didn’t matter that Draco excelled at charms and could solve the Gringott-Hornsby Equations, he had failed the most essential test of all: that of character. There was no area where Harry did better than moral fiber. 

He cleared his throat. “What was your favorite class?”

Harry’s answer can easily. “Defense. Not when Snape taught it. Or Umbridge. Or Gilderoy or really Quirrell.”

Yeah, he wasn’t going to touch on Snape. He couldn’t imagine anything that could bring down the mood more than a lengthy discussion of their former professor. “We really ran the gamut of Defense professors.”

“Honestly, the strangest thing is that Barty Crouch Jr. masquerading as Moody was actually a good professor. Our second best Defense professor was a madman murderer. Do you ever think about that?” Harry squinted up at the stars. “Makes me wonder.”

It’s a testament to how weird the years since have been that the thought never crossed his mind. “Can’t say I have.” 

“Hermione’s always going on about education reform.” That woman wanted to reform everything. No stone in the magical world would go unturned if she had her way. “She wants me to teach.”

Draco snorted. He hadn’t seen Harry interact with children, but he remembered how poorly he handled each new class of starry-eyed first years. Him signing up for that was absurd.

He whipped around to face him, eyes narrowed. “That’s funny, huh?”

Draco backpedalled hard. “Going from dark wizard catching to professor is hard shift, that’s all.”

“I think so too.” He sighed. “Hermione says there’ll be transferable skills, but I can’t tell if she’s joking.”

Cautiously, Draco asked, “You’re going to leave the DMLE?”

As if on cue, the first pitter-patter of raindrops fell. Harry didn’t respond. He felt stupid for asking. The question wasn’t  _ if  _ he was going to leave, but  _ when _ . He was meant for bigger and better things than being some DMLE grunt. Maybe it wouldn’t be to Hogwarts, maybe it wouldn’t be to anywhere. If Harry Potter left to become a hermit in the woods, he would have earned it. 

Draco Malfoy hadn’t earned a damned thing.

The rain turned into a deluge. Harry cast the umbrella spell over the both of them and Draco wished he hadn’t. It was dark out, the sheets of rain only visible in the small radius around the streetlamps far from their isolated corner of the playground.

“Why did you testify for me?” Draco’s words were soft enough he worried they would be lost in the storm.

He could only see the glint of light from Harry’s glasses. “It was the right thing to do.”

“Was it?” He chewed his lip, an awful habit for an awful night. “Why did you push for them to let me be an auror?”

“It was ridiculous for them to exclude you. You’d been forgiven for your crimes, in fact, the court had judged them to not be crimes at all. They were expunged from your record—Where are these questions coming from?” He couldn’t conceive of a reason, but Draco knew as the heads of DMLE did that a clean record didn’t make clean hands. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He stood, conjuring up his own umbrella charm. “I’ll get out of your hair—”

But Harry wouldn’t let him go so easily. “What are you doing?”

He was going to make this as difficult as possible. Draco had been hoping for a clean break, but no. He turned back to face Harry. “I know this has been a bad night for you, so I think it’d be better for both of us if you just let me leave and we pretend like none of this ever happened.”

The silence between them was contemplative. “You’re doing it again.”

What? Draco had been prepared for all manner of responses but that one had never factored into his calculations.  

Harry dropped his umbrella charm for a lumos, illuminating both of their faces in a harsh blue light. “That’s better. I like being able to see who I’m talking to.”

The rain quickly caught up to him, drenching his hair with remarkable efficiency. Presumably the rest of him too, but under lumos it was hard to tell the difference between dry and wet clothes. Draco was stuck on his words. “What do you mean?”

He glanced up at the sky and got hit in the eye by water. “How about we take this conversation inside?”

“What do you mean  _ you’re doing it again _ ?”

“I guess we can stay out here,” he murmured, then continued at regular volume. “That worse case scenario thing. You did it earlier with the new recruit and you’re doing it here now. Getting a new recruit is objectively a good thing, as it is your job is running both you and Parvati into the ground. You, however, take a few things that  _ could, maybe, possibly  _ happen and run with them. Having a third person isn’t going to ruin your friendship with Parvati, but that’s what you’re worried about. With this, a few things go wrong. We have to get takeout, it starts raining. Somehow this means that I  _ must  _  be having a terrible time. It’s irrational, you know? I’ll let you know if I’m unhappy. You can’t decide how other people feel.

“And you know what?” Harry took a step closer and leaned in like he was going to tell him a secret. “I’m having a good time.”

Draco blinked. Then he blinked again. Harry was close enough to be under his umbrella charm, which, while distracting, made him not feel bad about taking his time to process. In the end, all he could croak out was “What?”

Harry shook his head. He took Draco’s hand and pulled him back in the direction of 12 Grimmauld Place, extinguishing the lumos as he went. 

There was only one question on Draco’s mind. “Does that mean you want a second date?”

He could practically hear the eyeroll. It didn’t stop him from grinning. This was the best day ever.

Kreacher didn’t appreciate their dripping all over the hall, but he only grumbled a little bit and fetched them towels. Deja vu swept over Draco when he sat in front of the fireplace. He blushed. This time he wouldn’t fall asleep. 

A part of what Harry had said bothered him. “I’m not worried that my friendship with Parvati will fall apart.”

Harry studied him then turned to light the fire. “Good.”

Only once he felt the heat from the fire did he realize how cold he had been. He shivered.

“Do you need a blanket?” Harry’s eyes sparkled in the firelight.

He felt plenty warm already. “No.”

“So…” Harry nudged him with his elbow. “Our Patronuses match.”

He groaned. He hadn’t been on a lot of first dates but he was pretty sure that saying  _ I love you  _ before they even started wasn’t the smoothest move. 

“I know, not your favorite topic.”  _ He had no idea _ . “But I was thinking we could summon them and compare. See if they’re really identical.”

Like Draco didn’t know. He protested weakly, wand already moving. A silver stag sprung into being followed by another. His heart beat in his ears. Harry stared at them, searching for some flaw, some mark of difference. 

There was none.

Draco wanted this to mean something. The copy was perfect so his love was perfect. It was just a curiosity, though, a party trick to pull out on anniversaries or at a wedding. That didn’t make watching the stags circle each other feel any less pivotal. They nosed at each other, inspecting like they were trying to decide if their mirror is friend or foe. Then one sits down, its legs folding beneath it gracefully. The other curls up next to it and settles down to sleep.

Harry stretched out an arm around Draco—because he’s lame, so lame. How did he not see it before?—and he snuggled into it. Maybe for once he could not overthink things. It’s a tall order, but cuddled up in front of the fire he thinks maybe,  _ maybe _ he can do it. 

Because right now in the arms of the man he loved it was hard to imagine things going wrong.

  
  


He never got a big confession, but, honestly, a romance-novel style revelation that Potter had been in love with him the whole time would have scared Draco off. Parvati was disappointed, though delighted to have been right. And she was absolutely ecstatic to be maid of honor at their wedding three years later. If there was one word to describe the day it was indulgent. The colors were silver and gold, only because Harry wouldn’t let Draco make them silver and green (“But it’d bring out your eyes!” “No one would ever let me live down having a Slytherin-themed wedding, Draco”), and the party favors were all nods to his favorite romance novels (“If I don’t get the shield from _Knights_ , I will make a scene at the reception. Don’t test me.” “Merlin, Parvati.” She got a complete set of party favors), but Draco’s favorite part had to be at the end of the ceremony when he and Harry summoned their matching Patronuses and they danced around the garden of the Burrow, leaving shimmering light in their wake. He might have cried. Pansy called him out on it, but she was just mad Parvati beat her out for maid of honor. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all liked this!
> 
> Edit: I added about 2800 words to this. People were saying (and I agree) that the ending was rushed and at the time I was just so done writing this. So here's the end, months later.


End file.
